Lost: One fan's tribute

The beginning

Well, after seven years, six series and 114 fourteen episodes, ABC's incredible series Lost finally drew to a close as the Sun rose over the UK. I was there. The alarm was set for 4.50am with Virgin media set to record, merely as my contingency plan. It was textbook, however. I was down and ready with a bowl of cornflakes and some chocolate fingers at 5am, eagerly awaiting this the most truly unpredictable of television finales.

So, here we go.

And then what? At about 5.01am, just after the typical "Previously... on Lost" segment, viewers are greeted with a still screen bearing the words technical fault (or words to that effect). Hopes were momentarily shattered, but then we burst into life, two and a half hours to watch approximately 85 minutes worth of Lost, such is the American networks' leniency towards advertising (a five minute break every twenty minutes or so, then the odd advert every 5 minutes or so, infuriately punctuating key moments). This, however annoying it may be, did not detract from the spectacle which was promised and, in my opinion, was duly delivered.

Over the course of the many series, Lost has prided itself on its endless mysteries, each answer prompting more and more questions, those numbers, ambiguous non-linear timing, ancient Egyptian iconography, etc. These myths were proven to remain myths, something which will irk many fans, who wished to find out the origin of the island and the numbers, how a man became a murdeous pillar of black smoke, or how a dead man can adopt the body of the island's dead. These remained unanswered.

It was, after all, the grand narratives which prevailed. The viewer knew no more than the characters knew. It transpired that the events of the island were 100% real, and the sideways flash (granted, to non-Lost viewers this must sound ludicrous. Because it is; it was always the case with Lost that no matter how bizarre an idea seemed, it was always executed with such style and brilliance) was indeed some kind of purgatory, where Desmond, often seemingly a villain in this series, was rounding up the characters in Los Angeles to meet one last time, for them to move on. It was spiritual, loaded with religious iconography and Christian allegory (no-one had noticed the not-so-subtle name of Christian Shepherd until the last five minutes of the series finale), and, overall, about journies of redemption. In the sideways flash, the characters were dead; they had all lived their lives, died many years apart perhaps either on the island (Hurley, Ben, Jack, Rose, Bernard) or wherever else, and indeed, come back together to move on into another life (brother... [joke for the Losties]). Their lives on the island were about redemption: Clare, Kate, Sawyer, Sayid for past sins, Jin and Sun for denying their absolute reliance on each other, Jack on his need to help other people. It was all about ridding themselves of demons, and affirmation.

It was a truly remarkable spectacle, and quite a curveball that the LAX timeline was purgatory, as opposed to the island timeline as was speculated as early as the start of the first series, back in the days when Lost was on Channel 4 on Wednesdays. If you're angry about mysteries not being solved, or are left empty and confused by such an ending, then fuck you, you're an idiot. Not every question needs an answer; no-one dies knowing all. It was such a simple premise done in an engrossing, engaging, complicated and staggeringly beautiful way. All Lost ever was about was humanity - about life and death, love, friendship, and becoming the person the individual wanted to become, through free will. Indeed, a puzzling, thought-provoking finale, however metaphysical, always defeats a simple tying up of loose ends and revealing of the mystique which made the show so appealing in the first place.

Well done Lost, well done. I give it a couple of weeks, then I'll start all over again. I suggest any none-viewers do the same, also.

The end.

D.